


Midnight

by fre



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, alcohol use, genji is relentless and intoxicated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-25 23:59:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13223946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fre/pseuds/fre
Summary: after a new years celebration, zenyatta brings genji home safe





	Midnight

It was later than they both had expected, half stumbling through the door of their hotel room. Genji leaned upright on Zenyatta's shoulder, his body shifting awkwardly around each movement, an exaggerated cycle of steps.  
  
Zenyatta effortlessly juggled the key and Genji. He was beginning to laugh to himself, noting how quickly gin and champagne had changed his husband's demeanor this evening. His ankles crossed and he nearly tripped over the coffee table. He might have landed in perfect lotus position had Zenyatta not caught him.  
  
“I think you have miscalculated your limits, Mr. Shimada,” he joked mildly. Handling Genji so lightly, almost loosely, briefly misjudging the weightless impact. “Can I lay you down on the bed?”  
  
He could feel Zenyatta bracing him, one hand lifting him at his hip. “Only if you lie down with me.”  
  
“Genji.” The patience in his voice was slipping; still, Zenyatta settled him closest to the window, finding Genji's grip reluctant to surrender, whether he was clinging for support or seeking to bring his master down with him was difficult to tell. Genji dropped loose, carrying the cotton vest off Zenyatta's shoulders with him.  
  
“Careful, my dear.”  
  
“You worry for no reason,” he said, hiccuping, “Zenyatta. The bed is so comfortable...”  
  
This was not like the inebriation he felt in his human body. Sensations were stronger, almost overwhelming; the earth stacked into a twisting tower beneath him. Mastering it did not seem feasible, but simply moving with it was enjoyable enough.  
  
He curled up tightly in the center, a spiral of linen and metal and skin. Amid the languor, he still had the good sense to remove his mask, setting it beside the digital alarm. A playful glimmer lit his eyes, the sweet tones of blush accompanied by a breathless smile. “What city is this?”  
  
“You have already forgotten,” Zenyatta said, ruffling his dark hair. He was seated on the edge of the bed, unraveling his tie.  
  
“You could remind me,” Genji added suggestively, though there was really nothing to suggest.  
  
He could not ever remember seeing Genji so intoxicated. This sort of sloppy, insistent pining was kind of charming in a way, a brief glimpse at the games Genji had played in his youth. Sex was out of the question, Zenyatta was certain, but even this lethargic protest was proving to be a rather amusing display.  
  
“Maybe later,” he said. “Just relax now.”  
  
“I _am_ relaxed.”  
  
“You still haven't taken off your clothes, Genji,” Zenyatta reminded him.  
  
“Hnmm... _Master_.” He coiled tighter. “Maybe you could help me.”  
  
Obligingly, he helped Genji loose, unhooking the buttons dotting down from the collar, and guided him the rest of the way. Earlier he had watched Genji check himself in the mirror, perhaps still unsure as to whether or not the suit fit correctly. He could remember the curve of Genji's waist snug between the wool jacket and his hand. Even now, in such disarray, he looked just as elegant.  
  
“Perhaps we could just rest together.”  
  
Genji pressed himself against Zenyatta's hips, mistakenly sure that this would seduce him, succeeding only in further tangling the sheets. Nothing sounded more appealing or looked more desirable than Zenyatta. The draining thirst lingered in the pit of his thoughts, dissipating the last memory of even their smallest intimacy.  
  
“I want you, Zenyatta,” he purred, muted in the pale sheets.  
  
Zenyatta giggled and sensed Genji stiffen with embarrassment. It had sounded sexier in his mind. Perhaps he was losing his better judgment in this softened state of consciousness.  
  
“It would be best if we did not tonight,” Zenyatta said firmly, adding with tender honesty, “you can barely even hold yourself in one place.”  
  
Then Zenyatta got up to turn off the lights in the bathroom, leaving only the comfortable glow of the city stifled by sheer curtains. Radar glints of airplanes descending, the hushed cascades of highway.  
  
Genji shuffled to make room, somewhat straightening the sheets. Only Zenyatta's shape outlined in the cooled atmosphere, sharply structured in pure black. He gulped at the dryness prickling his throat, burning with every intention to speak. What he desired most was clear, but more often Zenyatta's will proved more reliable. It was always more fun with Zenyatta in control anyway.  
  
“Do you mind the curtains?” Zenyatta asked, settling beside him. “I feel rather soothed by the city lights.”  
  
“Not at all.”  
  
“Are you comfortable?”  
  
Genji nodded, yawning. He was deeply burrowed between the pillows, but moved closer to embrace Zenyatta. “I'm sorry if I have only made a fool of myself this evening.”  
  
“No reason to be ashamed,” Zenyatta said, smoothing his hair down. He found it difficult to tell whether Genji was sobering up or simply falling asleep. Still, he marveled at the array of emotions he inspired in Genji and a steady patter of reverberation lit through his circuits. “I don't really mind looking after you.”  
  
“You might regret saying that when I get sick in the morning,” he said.  
  
“Will you be alright for now?” His arm crossed his partner's back before coming to pause on the crest of his hip.  
  
He nodded, his voice a drowsy whisper, “Zenyatta, are you comfortable?”  
  
The city radiated an iridescent light, a smooth haze encased within the glass. Flurries of snow filtered down the street lamps, over the glowing tubes of neon further down the avenue. Crackles of fireworks scattered across town, yet Genji's breath remained even.  
  
A remarkable illusion, he thought, this very moment in time.  
  
“More than ever.”


End file.
